Written by Bobbie Gentry

Just outside of Delta country
Where the bitter weeds growin’ wild
Born seven miles outside o’ Woodland
Was a Chickasaw County Child

An papa done brung us some peppermint candy
Mama fixed a custard pie
Brought her a store bought doll from Jackson
She’s the apple of everyone’s eye

Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You’re gonna be somebody someday

Sportin’ her checkered feedsack dress
A ruby ring from a crackerjack box
Shufflin’ on down that gravel road
Barefooted an’ chunkin’ rocks

Mama said, “look-a here, Dumplin’
You’ll go far, ’cause you got style”
Ain’t nothin’ in this world gonna hold her back
Her pretty little Chickasaw County child

Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You’re gonna be somebody someday

Leavin’ the county a week from Monday
Ain’t got much to pack
A tin can of black strap sorghum molasses
And a farmer’s almanac

Mama’s done made her a brand new dress
Made of blue polka-dotted silk
Two postcards from California
And a gallon of buttermilk

Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You’re gonna be somebody someday

You’re gonna be somebody someday
You’re gonna be somebody someday